


Lamorak's Big Cat

by N_A_N_O



Series: Kink/Sextober2020 [3]
Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Butt Plugs, Cat Ears, Collars, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Master/Pet, Pet Names, Pet Play, Porn With Plot, Situational Humiliation, Teasing, leashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26911513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N_A_N_O/pseuds/N_A_N_O
Summary: Lamorak and Gawain try pet-play, challenging Gawain's pride as the cat.Kinktober2020 Day 9 Prompt: Pet-Play
Relationships: Lamorak/Gawain (Granblue Fantasy)
Series: Kink/Sextober2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954015
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Lamorak's Big Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this one might require a short explanation given I've put it up for a vote, but still chose to use Gawain as the cat.
> 
> Lamorak as the pesky, rebellious kitten with a flustered master would have been funny and cute, but not as interesting as Gawain fighting to get over his pride, trusting and giving his everything to Lamorak. To me, pet-play isn't just a kinky game, but a proof of devotion, trust, and love between two people, something Gawain would have found impossible to do before the Savior of Dalmore event.
> 
> *Spoiler ahead*
> 
> In the Savior of Dalmore, Lamorak (Lusor) brought the best out of Gawain for us by pushing him to act vulnerable, like in the kitten search scene. Their dynamic is my source of inspiration for this Kinktober prompt, and why I chose them for the Pet-Play theme.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Twitter: @NanosFics

“Heeere puss puss puss,” Lamorak called, wagging a plume at the end of a stick at his boyfriend. If he wasn’t careful enough, the annoyed kitten might scratch or bite.

A deep-voiced, “M-meow,” replied without much enthusiasm.

Cats, except for humiliating Halloween photos, didn’t have to wear any clothes, so Gawain was naked. He could only walk on all fours and meow. No talking back to his master, no biting, no scratching, and he’d get a reward. If he acted naughtily, his master would punish him, but cats were fickle and selfish. Still, obeying seemed to be the least embarrassing path because God knew what Lamorak was capable of if challenged.

Lamorak dressed in a tight white silk blouse, and he might as well have been naked with how his clothes and boots kissed his shapes. In an upsetting way, they asserted his dominance, even more as his partner wore none. Gawain wasn’t allowed to peel them off at will, and could only gaze at Lamorak hungrily, waiting for an opportunity to rub against his thigh.

Gawain wore a pair of yellow kitty ears on top of his head, a long fluffy tail plugged in, and a bell around his neck. They were pet-playing for the first time, so it was bound to be a bit awkward. It might also have hurt Gawain’s pride a bit, but they had already discussed this and agreed on the terms. Nobody else would ever know or hear about it, just a test, only this once, Lamorak had promised. He was begging before, and now he was in charge.

Gawain’s glare told Lamorak that he was going to regret it, that he was going to make him suffer tenfold next time. He had promised to do whatever, absolutely whatever Gawain wanted if he could see him like that just once. The joy of putting kitty ears on Gawain’s head seemed worth his life and Wale’s royal family’s honor.

“Good kitty, aren’t you a sweet Kitty,” Lamorak said, teasingly, scratching behind Gawain’s ear. He leaned into the touch, his bell jingling.

“Is your tummy rumbly? Kitty want some lunch?”

Gawain frowned, and Lamorak said, “This is when you meow meow, like a hungwy kitty!”

By the Gods! His jaw tight, he, “Mewooo.”

Lamorak had prepared a bowl of what looked like cat food in a pet bowl and put it on the ground. No matter Gawain’s puppy eyes, begging him not to push the game that far from the beginning, there was no turning back anymore. It wasn’t much compared to crawling around with that tail swaying against his thighs and other sensations reminding him of its presence every second.

“There’s no poison in there,” Lamorak said, “I wouldn’t want my kitty to miss aaany of the fun by feeling tipsy.” Of course not.

Gawain sniffed it, and it smelled edible. He swallowed his spit, his ears flushing, self-conscious about his position below Lamorak’s knees. Lamorak was watching intently with a narrow, unreadable smile, the sadist. If he believed Gawain wasn’t up for the challenge, he was wrong!

Gawain reached out for a bite, but Lamorak pushed his hand out of the way with the feather toy.

“Ganyan,” Gawain scrunched his nose at the pet-name, “Cats usually eat with their mouth, not their paws. I have some water if you want to lick your paws.”

Both were stubborn; since childhood, Gawain always showed a severe front, ambitioned to become the strongest of all soldiers. He didn’t allow himself ever to act childish. After the second miracle of Dalmore, he didn’t show any vulnerability and never bowed down to anyone at the highest of his arrogance. To protect his pride, he’d step up walls between himself and others, so high they couldn’t see the humanity in him anymore.

Since they first met as children, Lamorak kept stubbornly breaking through those walls, showing none of the fear or reverence the proud Gawain unconsciously expected from others. He drilled through, hammered its foundations, wrecking every bit of that pride’s hold on Gawain’s self-esteem. Acting silly didn’t mean he was weak.

This game didn’t change anything to Gawain’s self-worth. Even if it was still a bit complicated, he took it for what it was; a kinky game between lovers. He could be this vulnerable and submissive just for once, and only for this person. They had plenty of opportunities to switch their roles.

Gawain went onto his forearms, Lamorak kneeling next to him, and took a bite with his face inside the bowl. It was minced meat with some sauce, nothing like he'd dreaded. A real pet owner would have known better than touching an animal while it ate, but he scratched the small of Gawain’s back, prompting him to rise his hips. He wasn’t sure if he was slightly annoyed or aroused by that extra show of dominance.

“Good boy,” Lamorak said, wiping and putting a kiss to Gawain’s lips.

Gawain crawled after him as he settled on the sofa and pat on his lap. He obediently went up the couch and laid his hips on top of Lamorak’s thighs. He crossed his arms in front of his chin and waited to discover what Lamorak intended to do to him. Perhaps more teasing, cuddles, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to show he was excited.

Gentle caresses over each of his muscles scratches behind his neck, Lamorak was tender. Gawain sighed in content, letting Lamorak’s hands and eyes venture delicately over his battle history, the many scars on his back. That was the life of a cat he wanted, comfy, just expected to purr, and— Lamorak was touching his butt.

“H-Hey!”

Lamorak hummed, reaching near the tail plug as a small warning he was still the master and could tug and push at that tail anytime, do whatever he felt like to his pet’s behind. Most cats weren’t that docile, but Lamorak knew how to put the dirtiest ideas into Gawain’s head and make him believe he wanted it.

“It looks like my kitty can talk.”

“Mrow!” Gawain could only complain in cat, and as a cat, he could also roll onto his back.

“Aw, you want belly scratchies?” Lamorak asked with a shit-eating grin. “Are you purring or growling, Ganya?”

“Hiss.”

Lamorak was feasting his eyes on Gawain’s naked body, not lean and thin like a cat’s, but sturdy like a tiger’s, his abdomen tightening and relaxing with the belly-rubs. He was playing along, curving into his touch, keeping his wrists folded, slowly flicking his foot like a tail. Gawain enjoyed the belly-rubs more than he’d have voiced, even if he were allowed to talk. Perhaps it was the way Lamorak was looking at him more than the caresses or the revealing position, but the heat went into his hips.

“Lookie here, who’s a horny boy?”

Lamorak unbuttoned his blouse, baring more of his chest. As strong and as physically trained as his brothers, he didn’t have any difficulty pulling the tall and bulky Gawain up and hold him sitting almost upright with one arm, Gawain leaning back against his shoulder.

“You’re… A bit heavier than a Main Coon,” Lamorak said with a slightly strained grin, his free hand traveling down Gawain’s abdomen.

“Purr,” he whispered, nuzzling into Gawain’s locked blonde hair, caressing his stomach. Gawain put his head in the nook of his shoulder.

Wearing cat ears, a plug up his butt, and Lamorak pleasuring him in such a position was a bit too much for his pride. Lamorak understood that, allowing him to hide his face either against his bare chest or in his long hair, depending on how they shifted for comfort.

When having sex with another man, Gawain used to prefer either taking charge or be fucked like a beast by a stranger. Being handled roughly and a bit of pain didn’t hurt his pride. Bucking over, taking it “like a man” exposed him less and didn’t require an emotional bond with his partner. Being on top only confirmed his status as superior, and he found little reward in that.

Sex had been for the momentary high, for relief with other soldiers, until all of them feared him too much. Then, in isolation, he did it with strangers he didn’t care about and who didn’t know about him, a meaningless tryst where he gained a bit of pleasure and lost nothing. It was callous and rough.

Now, here he was, Lamorak being motherly, him wearing silly cat ears, purring while it tingled, heat welling up in his groin and body. He wouldn’t have ever admitted it, but he loved this role-play. Not for acting like a cat, but how sobering it could be to leave someone else in complete control of his body and image.

He licked Lamorak’s chest before jerking into his hand, chasing the high, refusing Lamorak to push him over the edge without guidance. He was still stubborn, in love, but where his orgasm went, he searched rather than let go. Some things about him couldn’t be changed, and Lamorak jokingly said;

“Aw, I think I’ll have to use a leash next time, having my kitty run off like that! Oh wait, I can use it now!”

For the second part, he wasn’t joking. Gawain had been a bit selfish again, not allowing Lamorak the pleasure of giving him an orgasm. It was time to punish the naughty cat.

He lifted Gawain like it was nothing and pushed him down onto all fours, off the sofa. A clicking sound and the leash was on his collar. Lamorak tugged on it, forcing Gawain to look up, commanding and firm. Gawain couldn’t do with a tender approach. So he was going to take charge in a rougher style. He’d taken out the large plug that had prepared Gawain all along.

“Your face was so cute when you came, I got hot all over,” Lamorak said, unbuckling his belt.

“You—”

“Shh, bad kitty,” Lamorak grinned, his face red with arousal.

“Please excuse the vulgarity of my upcoming words and actions. I am a good boy with good manners. Mommy used to praise me about how good I was, you know.”

The smile on his face changed to something serious, and his voice dropped an octave. “That said, I am going to wreck you now, and you better meowl.”

Gawain saw stars. His back arched with the pull of the leash, and he meowled. He dug his nails into the tapestry, then, with the rough thrusts, his eyes became teary, and other words slipped out of his mouth, some of them nasty, only excusable by his loss of control and how much he liked it.

His chest flattened against the floor— his hips high and spine curved. Lamorak was holding them tight, having no restraint on expressing his own pleasure. His praises were unbearable, Gawain wishing to melt into the floor rather than listen to nasty compliments thrown while thrusting into him, moaning how good it felt.

Gawain had asked for it, and he received a chastising he could only enjoy. He groaned into the floor, letting go, letting Lamorak ride him up to another orgasm, pulling on his leash if he showed any resistance. He was melting, jelly in his legs, undulation upon undulation, higher and higher. The last of his brittle walls crashed, crumbled, and he fell limp to the floor when Lamorak came, let him go, and fell on his knees.

“A-are you alright?” he asked, hugging an exhausted Lamorak.

“Wonderful. Just wonderful,” Lamorak wheezed, laughing under his breath. “Concerned about me, are you, Gawain?”

Gawain smiled. “Yes.”

With Lamorak, the teasing never ended, but when Gawain replied honestly, Lamorak didn’t know what to say anymore.


End file.
